


Coruscation

by Candy2theCore



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Future EreRi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, avian! Levi, big words, if people like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 17:58:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11696904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candy2theCore/pseuds/Candy2theCore
Summary: Life is fragile. Easily snuffed out in a moment. Levi’s thoughts on it as he’s on the brink of death.Test Run for future story.





	Coruscation

Coruscation. The dictionary defines this word as the act of  emitting vivid flashes of light, sparkling, scintillating, or gleaming. It compares it to the light that bounces off the facets of diamonds, bright, and quick. So I suppose this word could describe my situation. The painful flashing of blue and red lights over my eyes, pounding into them with intent of harm. The lights turn into a buzzing yellow color, and then a fluorescent blue, overhead. It hurts, to put it bluntly.

 

Asphyxiate. Defined as the verb for cut off air. Also another wonderful word for my situation. A mask over my face, choking me, my lungs aching, burning, wishing for relief from the forced inhale and exhale that the mask provides. It’s like someone’s breathing on my mouth, into my lungs. Consistent CPR. It hurts, to put it simply.

 

Vociferous. Meaning loud, or insistent. This is the word I’d use to describe the voice that screams above me, 

“We’ve got a raven!” The words are resonant, bouncing around my skull like a baseball. The response is just as deafening. 

“A raven?!” It hurts, to put it plainly.

 

The bang of something, followed by a squeak is Resounding. Resonant. Adding to the words, the lights, the mask. To put it clearly, it hurts. 

 

And it continues to cause me pain, as more words are blatantly shouted across my body. 

 

“Badly injured, hurry!”

 

_ Just stop talking. Leave me to my silent grave. Let me wallow and wither away until I am nothing but my subconscious. _

 

Numb. A more common word, meaning loss of feeling, or lack thereof. My senses are described as both this, and another term. Voltaic. Known as electrifying. My body is on fire, and blissfully numb. To put this frankly, you guessed it, it hurts.

 

“What’s the status?”  _ Again. Please just shut up.  _

 

Water running. The sound does not send racketing tennis balls around my head. The sounds sounds pleasant. Cool. Splashing against metal and allowing me a distraction to focus on. A halcyon in my world of agitation and irritation. 

 

“Large gashes along both sides, tears in the primaries, sever damage to the Humerus on the left and the ulna on the right. Feathers appear to be.. Um… clipped.” and the voice is back, to loud, boisterous even. 

 

“Is he conscious?” Clattering to my left. It hurts my ears, and my head.

 

“Barely. Should I put him under?” More clattering, and a snapping sound.  _ Please. Put me under and pray I never wake. This existence has worn me to my bones, and grates against the mallow, shaving away layer by layer until I am nothing. What a cruel world it is. _

 

“Do it carefully, no use spooking him.” More water. The wonderful halcyon of tenacity that keeps the pain at bay. _ Please, just leave the water running. Wash away my pain in a river of running water and bliss. _

 

“Right. Honey?” Someone’s talking to me. The acute pain in my head intensifies as they draw near. Touching my shoulder. A flare sparks in my back at the contact. Pain rushes through me, knocking me out of my senses even more. Someone’s touching my wings, positioning them. It hurts so much that a wail escapes my mouth. my wings act on their own, flapping angrily at whoever is try to hold them, causing more pain. They go limp and I flutter them uselessly, trying to find a position to hold them in. Only more pain, the friend that I know dearly and all too well. My refuge and destruction in one tiny four letter word. It’s agony, the muscles straining to even hold them up as i’m painstakingly positioned on my stomach. 

 

“Honey, i’m going to give you a shot of something, it will make you go to sleep okay? I need you to hold still.”  _ but my wings! _ I want to scream, and i’m suddenly thrashing about as something sticks sharply into my elbow. Hands are at my shoulders, holding me down as my elbow stings, panic inside me. 

 

_ No, no, not again. Please, anything but this…  _ i’m fading. I’m gone. It’s gone. _ Where’s the world? It’s just black. Just… black… _ the darkness sucks at my being, tearing me apart into fragments scattered by ethereal winds. 

 

I’m left here, suspended in mid animation, my mouth paused in a terrible scream. My face cramps, but I can’t move, can’t itch my nose, can't even blink. Hours upon hours of time are left as I wait, watching the dark, floating silently. 

  
  


And now i’m back. The side of my face presses to a soft pillow, the smell of disinfectant burning my nose. Somethings holding my wings out, and I rustle my feathers, only to find pain. I freeze, tensing my muscles and then carefully relaxing. I’m on my stomach, arms down by my sides, and from what I can tell, my wings are held suspended above me. Numb, for real this time. 

I am awake. I did not slip into the wonder that is death. What a shame. The plant on the window sill looks dead. Well, almost dead. A twinge of green remains, and I wonder if they’ve forgotten to water it, or intended to leave it here, to taunt me. To show me how close it is to dead. Just a few more days. To throw in my face the fact that I will not die quite this easily. 

 

Perhaps someone did not order the kill. Perhaps they ordered for me to be tortured by suffering under this life, that I don’t get to die just yet. I hate it. I hate whoever will not let me die. Who ever decided that living with my burdens of clipped wings was a wonderful thing. I’ll never fly again. Forever branded as disabled. A member of society who cannot partake in it’s recently discovered wonders. I cannot use my birthright to take to the sky, to watch the sun sink behind clouds, and fly under and over the moon until I am dizzy from the beauty of it. 

 

How cruel. 

 

Someone is fighting to keep me alive. I want to know who. 

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so I wanted to try out an AU like this. This is basically a test run to see if you’d be interested in reading more of something like this. Drop a comment, hit me up on tumblr, let me know what you like, what you don’t like, if you think that this would be interesting to read. I’ll still be updating The Sanctuary when possible, but currently i’m at a mental block for that story. So i’m struggling to push through, and i’m trying to get myself out of that funk. This is my coping method. Thanks for reading!  
> please let me know what you think, feed me with feedback. (there's a reason it's called "feed"back) :)


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